Surviving a Summer Job
by Radical.2
Summary: Walking over to the first kid I saw was easy, just easy, as was introducing myself. "Hi," I said to the raven-haired boy with the bright hazel eyes.. "I'm Lily Evans. Are you going to Hogwarts too?" Minding their reactions...not as easy.


**J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

The first time I went to Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop was the same day as my first day at Hogwarts, and the day I was sorted, and the day that I met James Potter. It was on this incredibly significant day that I was walking down Diagon Alley- my first time- with my parents, staring in awe at the shops and people and animals. It was all so colorful and busy, we didn't know where to go, really. I had already gotten my school supplies- with help from one of the professors, Dumbledore- but now he had left and we were just standing awkwardly in the middle of the street.

No cars, no bikes, it was all so flabbergasting. Sure, there were kids my age, but they all knew where to go and what to see and who to talk to, unlike me, the muggle-born. The kids, if they even noticed me, would just see my expression and figure that I was a clueless slut who had no idea where she was. It was quite frustrating, really, because I _wasn't_. I was smart, at least by nonmagical standards, and I was relatively nice if you didn't get on my bad side. Not that I had one.

Music pounded through my ears, different songs playing from each unique shop. Nothing that I knew, the wizards and witches here had this entire underground system, a whole new world full of strange things and unfamiliar people. I turned to my parents and told them, "We don't have to leave for another half hour, we could go to..."

I searched desperately through the people, trying to find something familiar, something I had heard of and knew. "...That ice cream shop!" I finished, taking each of their hands and half-dragging them across the street to the old-fashioned-looking shop, letting go to open the door. It opened automatically, and I groaned internally when I jumped, surprised. Doors did this even in the _muggle _world, as I was now to refer to my old world as.

It was quite busy, and kids my age were littered all around the room, lounging on chairs and leaning on walls casually. And that was when I felt it. I felt brave all of a sudden, and I wanted to do everything. Why should I abandon my love of having friends and exploring and always being the first to try something new? Of course, usually whenever bravery sprouts up in me, foolishness tags along.

I left my parents at the door with a lame excuse, something about going to the restroom. Walking over to the first kid I saw was easy, as was introducing myself. "Hi," I said to the raven-haired boy standing next to a rather tall-looking fellow with long, black hair. "I'm Lily Evans. Are you going to Hogwarts too?" Minding their reactions...not as easy. They chuckled with laughter, obviously thinking that I was an idiot for some reason. "What?" I demanded irritably, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"_Everyone _goes to Hogwarts, Evans," explained the shorter boy. He had deep brown eyes that made me think of the chocolate ice cream I had seen on a poster pasted on the door of the shop. "You must be new. I'm James Potter, and this guy right here is my pal Sirius Black," James gestured to the taller boy beside him, who was currently eyeing a girl on the other side of the shop with great interest, evidently ignoring me.

"Okay," I said, not sure what to say next. "Nice to meet you, James. Is this your second year here?" I added, as he seemed to be the type who already knew everything there was to know around here, or at least pretended to. His eyes widened a teensy bit at my question, maybe he was in his third year or something. Had I insulted some sort of older, popular boy? I was wondering, a little worried that I was ruining my reputation as I spoke.

"Nah, this is my first year too. I do look older, though, don't I?" he teased me, running a hand through his dark hair, giving me a mocking smile. Of course I just _had _to make myself look like an idiot in front of him._ Of course_. I shrugged nonchalantly, averting looking him in the eye. I was such an idiot! I chastised myself. God, Merlin, I was such an idiot!

"Sure," I replied sarcastically with a roll of my eyes. James was a bit full of himself, sure, but he was easy to hang out with and relatively nice. I wondered if he would ever become my friend, or if this was some one-time conversation. In response to my eye-roll he playfully widened his eyes, and spoke to me in a squeaky voice that made me think of teddy-bears and stuffed animals.

"You don't think I'm pretty, Silly Lily?"

I just had to burst into laughter at his pouting lips and puppy-dog wide eyes and squeaky teddy-bear voice. He smiled at me, and my cheeks reddened a bit. That's what happens when you have red hair and someone smiles at you, you get just the littlest bit embarrassed and your blood rushes into your face faster than a muggle roller-coaster going down a steep hill. Way, way faster.

"Come on, James," interrupted Sirius, moving to step in front of me. "We've got to go look at the Icebolts before my mum makes me leave." He turned his head, noticing that I was still there, watching them like they were a television show. "Great to meet you..." he trailed off, not even caring that he'd forgotten my name. I was about to finish that sentence with my name when someone else did it for me.

"Silly Lily," supplied James with a wink at me as he walked away. "See you later, Evans!" he called behind him, causing a few heads to swing in my direction, but not exactly at me. They were looking for a girl cute enough for James to actually talk to, and she wasn't there to them. Because she was me, and no way was I cute, unless it was in that little-girl-with-red-hair kind of cute way. It was obvious that James already had a name that most kids knew, and that nobody knew me. Hopefully that would change soon.

I rushed back to my parents, who were now standing second in line by the ice cream counter. "Did you meet anyone?" asked my mum, her face worried. She was probably afraid that I had met some dare-devilish boy who broke hearts every other day, possibly every single day. I wasn't sure if James was or not, but he didn't seem like it. Sirius, well, it was a bit obvious, but it wasn't like he would ever talk to me like his best friend had.

"A few people who're going to Hogwarts," I replied, my eyes were sweeping across the dozens and dozens of flavors I'd never heard of. There were shades of colors in the ice cream that I had never seen, and their scents were unfamiliar, yet simply intoxicating. One particular flavor stuck out as a possible favorite, a Triple Chocolate with bits of Chocolate Frogs, whatever those were. They kind of reminded me of how James...smelled. Yeah, it sounds freakish to say that I could smell him, but he had had this distinct scent of some kind of milk chocolate.

I ordered my ice cream and we all sat at a table, it was oddly shaped in the form of a triangle, as if it had known that three people would sit here. I hadn't noticed any non-square tables walking in, but this _was _the magical world, perhaps they were enchanted. This was likely a normal thing, I assured myself. Looking for other enchanted things in the shop, I realized that I had not been paying attention to anything at all since my conversation with James! How could I have missed all of this, it was amazing!

As two teenage witches walked in through the door, I saw that it did not swivel to the side, it flew up somehow. It disappeared in the ceiling for a moment before slamming down again. Woah. And the posters I had barely glimpsed, the pictures of them actually _moved_! Scenes of ice cream and cakes and candy moved around like a television commercial, and the very sight of the posters made my mouth water. I nearly laughed at myself, had I forgotten that I had a dish of ice cream in my hands? Er...yes.

I dipped my spoon into the Triple Chocolate ice cream (with bits of Chocolate Frogs) and slipped a bit in my mouth, savoring the taste of it, smiling in ecstasy and joy. My parents watched my cautiously, they were probably under the impression that I was being poisoned or something. "Want to try some?" I asked, and just as I said that two plastic spoons flew over to our table, settling in the ice cream like...like magic!

My dad was the first to reach forward and take a spoon, doing this ever so slowly, as if this was some dramatic moment instead of him eating ice cream. I thought I saw him closing his eyes as I ate another spoonful, and he roughly shoved a tiny bit of ice cream in his mouth. He swallowed it, furrowing his eyebrows as if trying to gauge how it had tasted, if it was poisoned or not. After a moment, he finally smiled and pronounced it, "Simply delicious!" Soon Mum tried a spoonful, she agreed that it was tasty, but she was on another diet. Dad and I finished the ice cream in minutes after that.

"Someday I'm going to work here," I announced to my parents, who were attempting to smile at my cuteness. They ended up with pretty alarmed expressions, and at first I thought it was because of me until I saw a shadow move across the table. My parents turned to see a rather large man wearing a white apron, a wizard's hat upon his bald head. Perhaps most important, there was a friendly smile upon his face. He was smiling at _me_!

"You'd have to be seventeen to work here, little girl," he told me, and then I had one of those moments where I completely embarrass myself unintentionally. I had had many, _many _of those kinds of moments, believe me. I stood up, sliding off my seat and nearly glared at the old guy, I assumed he was just some worker or something until that moment, until I saw his name-badge, which read: Florean Fortescue. It was kind of obvious that he owned the place. I promptly sat down, biting my lip. "What did you want to say?" he asked me.

"I'm _not _a little girl," I mumbled, resisting the crazy impulse to roll my green eyes at him. "I'm eleven years old, not five," I added, even quieter.

"Charming!" he exclaimed to my parents, then glanced back at the growing line across the shop. "Excuse me, I must be going," he said to us, rushing back to the counter to scoop ice cream faster than...even faster than I could blush when embarrassed! My parents watched him with widened eyes as we left, bumping into several people. I didn't want to leave, not at all, and the only way my parents could convince me to leave was by telling me the train left in an hour for Hogwarts. Mr. Fortescue saw my obvious reluctance in leaving, and I could swear that I saw him smiling at me.

From that day on, whenever I saw that shop, even if I was just with my friends, even when I was on a date, I always went in to get ice cream. I tried nearly all the ice cream flavors, and Mr. Fortescue and I talked by the counter if there wasn't that large of a line. I met the employees that worked there and they were nice to me, thinking I was so cute and all with my wide eyes and red hair. And it was because of my attachment to that shop that I kept going there, even when I was in my fifth and sixth years and ice cream seemed immature to everyone else.

Once in a while I would see James, but he wasn't nice much anymore. He always insulted my best boy friend (notice the space between 'boy' and 'friend'), Severus Snape, and he was forever asking me out. I turned him down every single time, no matter how much my friends- I did make many friends- told me he was cute. I would never tell anyone of how I had first thought him actually likeable. Ever.

And that was how on the last day of my sixth year, a few months after I had turned seventeen, I ended up in that ice cream shop again, out to achieve what I considered the greatest dream one could have: I was out to get a job. Florean- He insisted that I call him that- had owled me and we had set up a time for an interview, which was now.

And now I was there, and it was obvious that I would get the job. I just hoped that it wouldn't end in disaster. Or worse, James Potter.

**Should I continue? Reviews appreciated!**


End file.
